(('nother li'l in-character post-dealie. I'm having fun writing these. In other news - why the hell does my computer keep going on these eight-hour-plus updating sprees? Seriously? What the hell? I know I need to clean it out (maybe reformat, but I'd have to look up how t'do that proper) but this is just silly.
Still don't really buy into the storyline going on over here, but it's interesting and I like Mystery. The bits about magic and charms speak to me a bit, too.))
Or: To Die A Dozen Deaths
She learned later that both of the enemy summoners were much stronger than she was - they'd completed their training and were soon to begin ranked matches, with hundreds of victories each.
That didn't really help her now, though.
She felt fuzzy around the edges, the world fading in and out around her, washed with gray.
"I don't want to die again ..." She wasn't really sure if she'd sent it, spoken the words aloud, or just thought it really loudly inside her own skull.
She was shaking, and it was all she could do to keep herself standing. She covered her mouth with one hand, heedless of the danger, to keep herself from throwing up her last three meals.
"Let's surrender, okay?" The other woman's words came in yellows and golds, like sunshine and warm honey melting into the cracks of her fractured mind. The pain was making her delirious.
Fire and hard stone followed, the man sounded confident despite their impending defeat. "We can do this, we'll catch up."
Warwick regained consciousness, his body regenerating completely from its ravaged state. Neither Olaf nor Cassiopeia were visible - Their base hadn't been invaded yet. She urged Him out to defend, shocked to note Their defenses were still standing.
"You're weak," he growled softly. The battle had taken a lot out of both of them.
"I - "
He cut off her reply. "You're weaker than they are, Summoner. I can smell your fear, girl."
The berserker and the Noxian temptress appeared down the lane. Olaf raised his massive axe, cheerfully reducing the horde of purple-clad minions into chunky red paste. Cassiopeia contented herself to watch, slithering through the spattered gore with a rather bored expression painted on her admittedly beautiful face.
"So," the wolf-man began, flexing his talons. Lux and Veigar walked up beside Them, waiting for the battle to resume. "Are you going to give up?"
"I - no!"
He grunted, but didn't reply.
The enemy reached the base of the stairs.
Veigar raised a mystical barrier there, temporarily halting their advance. A rain of magical turret-fire slammed into the barbarian, who barely seemed to notice.
They flung Themselves forward, claws splayed, intending to at least shred the snake-woman's scales. Blood ran freely from a multitude of cuts, but Cassiopeia managed a gurgling laugh despite the damage They inflicted.
There came a flash of pain, and then nothing.
Their body half-turned as it fell, allowing Them a glimpse of Their legs - His legs - and the axe that severed Them, before the world went dark once more.
"You have been slain."
She screamed, clutching her sides as the pain wracked her form.
"An ally has been slain."
One of the other summoners flinched.
"Ace!"
